Club Denpasar
by bridgetash
Summary: Rachel travelled to Bali to meet Ross for a holiday, but now she's in prison for something she didn't do. Can she get out? Ch 6 Ross returns to the hotel
1. Death Sentence to Drug Traffickers

**Club Denpasar**

AN: this fic is inspired by the Schappelle Corby case, which you do not need to know about to understand the fic. If you do know about it, the fic will not have the same ending (though Schappelle's story isn't over, and there might still be a happy ending for her too).

"**Death sentence to drug traffickers"**

Inside the dark, hot, humid and cramped cell, Rachel huddled in a corner, holding her abdomen. This was a nightmare. This couldn't last, she thought against the background of unintelligible foreign female voices. She had to get out of here, somehow. She shouldn't be here at all. She was an American citizen, and the Indonesians couldn't hold her in this prison for no reason. Why wasn't the American consul doing anything about it?

Her stomach cramped up. She would never get used to the food here – it was making her sick, and she would eat as little as possible. Someone was going to have to get her out of here. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake. She closed her eyes, seeing her bag open on the customs table, with the enormous clear package with the green stuff lying on top of the things she'd packed herself, only hours before. She hadn't put that package in her bag. She had never seen it before.

**They decide to go to Bali**

It wasn't really Ross's area of expertise, but he wanted to attend the conference in Indonesia anyway. For one thing, it could be interesting being at a meeting where people were talking about things generally – things that worked in related areas sometimes worked in your own. He was also interested in the star attraction – a talk and some exhibits on a prehistoric vegetarian crocodile. Knowing what he knew about crocodiles and alligators, the idea of a vegetarian form of a well known carnivore intrigued him.

"Hmm," Rachel has said when he had mentioned it to her. "Maybe there were vegetarian sharks as well."

"Sharks are really interesting. Did you know that they are actually prehistoric? The first sharks were around more than 300 million years ago, before the dinosaurs, and they've hardly evolved since the Jurassic era," Ross said.

"That's a long time," Rachel said.

Ross knew that she wasn't really interested in what he did for a living. It seemed certain that Ben would not follow in his footsteps although he hoped that Emma might, or perhaps future children. But before they had more children, they should really get married, properly. It was something they had already discussed, and in fact, Rachel had an engagement ring, but the date and the details of the wedding they had not decided on. He was not enthusiastic about the wedding, as such, at least not if that meant a big family extravaganza.

He had caused that twice, and his sister once. Rachel had already been through the big family wedding once, and imagining how the combination of both families would work made Ross shudder. There were boundless opportunities for tactless remarks, harking back to the past when they wanted to go forwards.

It didn't have to be an extravaganza. In Las Vegas, they had not needed it, but then, neither of them could clearly remember that, and the hangover the next day was no honeymoon. To get married because you both drunkenly think that it is a good idea is a terrible way to start a marriage. They were destined to be together, but not like that. Even so, he couldn't help wishing that they had found a way to get around that, to not look on the thing as an unfortunate escapade, but to look on it as fate taking them each by the scruff of the neck and saying,

"You two belong together, geddit?" They hadn't got it. It wasn't so much that he regretted the course of his life between the Las Vegas marriage and the day Rachel didn't leave for Paris, but things had to have been better if they had been together all of that time.

For one thing, the fling between Rachel and Joey would never have happened and he would never have to imagine what it had been like between the two of them when they were alone. It didn't matter that he didn't think that Rachel and Joey were suited and that it wouldn't have lasted. There had been plenty times when he and Rachel weren't suited either.

In some ways that was still the case – what does a person in fashion have to do with a person in palaeontology? But then again, he remembered he'd rather be with Rachel than Julie, who was another person in palaeontology. He still saw her around from time to time, and she would even be at the conference but everything between them was finished, and comfortably finished.

As for Ross and Rachel, they did not want a wedding like Las Vegas, sober or not. They were proud to be together and they want the people who were important to them to share a wedding with them. They liked the idea of a marriage with friends only – the ones who had been there for them over all of this time. The ones who would understand what they had been through and celebrate the marriage wholeheartedly. Even Joey, Ross had to admit.

"People get married in Bali," Rachel said, when she had heard that this was where the conference was to be based.

"Of course they do," Ross said.

"I mean people who are not from Bali. Like Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall." Rachel frowned, "Though that marriage wasn't legal."

"No," Ross said, instantly hating the idea of a Bali wedding. There were going to be no complications at all in their wedding, not a singe one. "We'll get married properly when I get back, in City Hall, with all of our friends. Let's work out a date."

It had taken over a week to decide on the date. There had been a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between everyone as various dates were chosen and rejected.

"Now I really feel we are getting married," Rachel said contentedly. She had already amassed a pile of bridal magazines. Ross looked at them uneasily. They were going to have their extravaganza.

"It's friends only Rach," he said.

"Of course," she said. It turned out that she had agreed with him about this strategy, but he wondered if it would spiral out of control. And then she said,

"Why don't I come with you to Bali?"

"We're not getting married there," Ross said nervously, "We're doing it properly here in New York."

"I know that, but a holiday would be nice. There won't be time for a honeymoon afterwards." That was true. Ross had to be at work, rain hail or shine, the Monday after his wedding.

"That's a good idea." Since he had to be in Indonesia anyway, he'd save on his own air fare.

"It won't be that much of a honeymoon because Emma will be there." Having a two year old around cramped your canoodling style.

"I don't want the kind of honeymoon that requires us not to have Emma around," Ross said.

"Neither do I," Rachel said. "I really just want the holiday. After all, when Emma's asleep…" she winked at Ross. He grinned back at her.

"Well how about I arrange to stay in Bali for a few days after the conference, and you and Emma can join me then?"

"Okay," Rachel said.


	2. Nasi Goreng

**Nasi Goreng**

Rachel had had a few months unemployment after she had thrown away the Louis Vuitton job. Jobs like hers were hard to find. The competition was tough, and she had to explain why she had thrown away such a good opportunity and explain that she would not run out on a job offer again. Rachel had also, out of consideration for Ross, not wanted to involve Mark in her search. In the end, she had ended up working for a smaller clothing line, although it still had outlets in many countries.

When she asked the boss at work about time off to go to Indonesia, the first time she had asked for time off, she had expect that she might be asked to take a detour to the Singapore outlet.

"I can let you have a few more days, if you'll go to Melbourne for me," her boss said. "I need you to look at our store in Chapel Road and I need you to speak to the manager there. There's also a cloth supplier I'd like you to look at."

"Sure," Rachel said.

So a few days after she had seen Ross off at the airport, she was herself being seen off by Monica.

"It's not so easy to transport them around," she said. She sighed, "Even less, now that they've decided to walk, because I can guarantee, they're each off in a different direction!" Rachel laughed. Even Emma was a handful, and there was only one of her. "I don't think I'll be going overseas for a long time," Monica said.

"You don't really want to, do you?" Rachel asked.

"It would be nice, to be free – but no, not really," she smiled. "I've done all the travelling I want to do, and I'm very happy to stay at home." Having the babies and the house had done so much to make her content. Rachel thought it even made Monica less fussy, in some respects. Happiness, and reality of small children must have done that for her. "I'm glad you guys aren't going to get married in Bali. Don't you dare do it behind our backs either," Monica said.

"We won't," Rachel laughed.

"No getting drunk either," Monica warned. Well Monica was allowed to say that. She had earned the right to say it.

"No thanks, I want to remember my wedding. This is going to be a nice family holiday and nothing else!" Rachel answered. She hugged her friend, her best friend, except for Ross.

"Hug me too!" Emma demanded, and Rachel picked her up, so that they could have a group hug.

"How is Ross liking it over there?" Monica said, as Rachel held Emma in her arms.

"He's loving the conference," Rachel said, "All he wants to do is talk about dinosaurs."

"Oh no. Hasn't he been to see anything in Indonesia yet?"

"I think they were all taken on some tour of some place," Rachel said, "But I have no idea. The tour was his chance to talk to someone from Germany. He doesn't remember what he saw."

"Typical," Monica said. "Make sure you see a thing or two when you're there. The place isn't just about beaches you know."

"I'll try,' Rachel said. She had meant to read up a little before she went, but she just didn't have time, what with work, day to day life, getting Ross ready, getting herself and Emma ready... She was sure there would be some tour guide or other who would show her everything she needed to see. She hadn't even have time to pick up much of the news lately. Only one story from the day before had penetrated her consciousness, and that wasn't really just a story, just coverage of the President's latest speech. The President was annoyed that other countries weren't stamping down on drug traffickers and was saying that they should tighten up on penalties. Rachel agreed. Those people helped ruin countless lives. She wasn't sure about the death penalty, but she agreed that something had to be done.

In Melbourne, she had a nice two days, first visiting the Chapel road store, where everything seemed to be going well, then wandering along where she saw what the local designers were offering, keeping Emma's fingers away from the delicate fabrics in Collette Dinnigan's store. The fabric person was able to meet her later that day, and Rachel collected some samples to take back to New York.

The next day was an Emma day, with the zoo, and St Kilda beach, before dinner on Lygon street with Cheryl, the manager of the Chapel Road store, and Kevin, her partner. Cheryl was thin, with long blonde hair done up in a twist – although superficially like Phoebe, she gave off a very business like air. Kevin was likewise tall and lanky, going bald. They were in an Indonesian restaurant, since, as Cheryl said, she may as well get a foretaste of what she would be eating. So Rachel had some Nasi Goreng, and Emma, who had suddenly turned fussy, had some plain steamed rice.

"Have you been to Bali before?" Cheryl asked.

"No, never."

"Seems like every Australian has," Kevin said, singing a snatch of a song Rachel didn't know which had the words "I've been to Bali too."

"Yeah, and they're still going," Cheryl said.

"Why wouldn't they be going?" Rachel asked in surprised, because Cheryl and Kevin had exchanged a look, full of meaning.

"Oh, you know, because of the Kuta beach blast, they were worried that Australians wouldn't go back," Kevin said. Rachel's heart skipped a beat. "October, 2002. 88 Australians died out of a total of over 200 hundred." She must have been looking blank because Kevin added, "Some Americans died. It must have made the news over your way."

"The police will be on the look out for that kind of thing," Cheryl said, "Suspicious people in crowded areas full of westerners. The terrorists hate westerners of course, and Indonesia is a Muslim country."

"I thought they were something else," Rachel said, feeling slightly alarmed.

"On Bali, it's mostly Hindu," Cheryl said.

"Some Muslim," Kevin said.

"The people on Bali are really nice," Cheryl added, "The bombers didn't come from Bali, they came from other parts of Indonesia." But if people could move about freely within a country, what difference did that make? She was glad when they changed the subject.

Ross called her as arranged at her hotel that night.

"Are you safe?" she asked.

"Of course I'm safe!" Ross exclaimed, "Why wouldn't I be safe?" If he didn't know, should she worry him. "Everyone's so nice and friendly."

"Oh," Rachel said. "Have you arrived at the hotel?"

"I've just got here," Ross said. "I haven't had a chance to have a look around. Julie said it was a good place."

"Julie said?"

"Yeah," Ross said, suddenly sounding reserved, "You know from years ago. She's not here, she just recommended it. She said the hotel's ownership is foreign, but they treat the workers well, better than most of the local hotel owners do." She didn't know why she felt relieved to hear him confirm that Julie wasn't there. It was going to be a long time before she could be relaxed about any of Ross's ex girlfriends – so many things had happened over the years to mess things up.

"Good," Rachel said, having a soft spot for people in the service industries, like waitresses.

"So you get a good night sleep sweeties, and give Emma a good night kiss for me."

"And me?"

"Of course," Ross said. "I can't wait to see you."

"Me too," Rachel said.


	3. Ghosts of the Past

**Ghosts of the Past**

Ross called Rachel as arranged at her hotel that night.

"Are you safe?" she asked.

"Of course I'm safe!" Ross exclaimed, "Why wouldn't I be safe?" Rachel realised that no only was he safe, he was now worried because of her question. "Everyone's so nice and friendly. Why wouldn't I be safe?"

"No reason," Rachel said.

"Have you heard anything?" Ross asked anxiously, "I mean everything looks fine here, but I suppose appearances can be deceptive."

"No really," Rachel said, deciding that it was better not to alarm him, "I haven't heard anything about the place at all, except it's very nice."

'Then why did you ask if I was safe?" Ross asked.

"I did hear that they were terrible drivers," Rachel improvised.

"Tell me about it," Ross laughed, "I just avoided hit by a car just now."

"Oh no!"

"It's terrible," Ross said, "Some of them will do anything. This guy was doing a U turn, with no signal or anything! When you get here, you make sure you get brought straight to the door so that you don't have to cross any roads."

"I will," Rachel said. "Have you arrived at the hotel?"

"I've just got here," Ross said. "I haven't had a chance to have a look around. Julie said it was a good place."

"Julie said?"

"Yeah," Ross said, suddenly sounding reserved, "You know from years ago. She's not here, she's not even in Bali, she just recommended it. It doesn't cost much but it's supposed to be good. She said the hotel's ownership is foreign, but they treat the workers well, better than most of the local hotel owners do." She didn't know why she felt relieved to hear him confirm that Julie wasn't there. It was going to be a long time before she could be relaxed about any of Ross's ex girlfriends – so many things had happened over the years to mess things up.

"Good," Rachel said, having a soft spot for people in the service industries, like waitresses.

"So you get a good night sleep sweetie, and give Emma a good night kiss for me."

"And me?"

"Of course," Ross said. "I can't wait to see you."

"Me too," Rachel said. When she had hung up, Ross looked around the lobby.

It was still only early afternoon. He had already checked in and he decided to explore the hotel. This didn't take long and he decided to ask the way to the beach. This was close by, as advertised, he was glad to see. So many times he had booked hotels that was supposedly near the beach or near transport or something else that was important and that was nothing of the kind.

The beach seemed to be quite busy. He had already heard that this weekend was a long weekend in Australia, and there were a lot of Australian holiday makers around. If he had not booked when he had, he would have had a lot of trouble finding anywhere near the beach.

He noted all the good spots and mentally planned their itinerary. Of course, the point was to get away and relax, as Rachel had said, but how could you relax when you didn't know what was going to happen next? But Rachel said it was enough that the phone wasn't going to ring (that statement had caused Ross some quiet amusement) and that they wouldn't run into people they didn't want to see.

Mentioning Julie had been a bit of a faux pas, but he didn't see why he couldn't mention her. That was all over and Rachel had no right to get all funny about her. It wasn't like the time, last week, when they had run into Chloe. He had hated that, as much as Rachel had. It had happened so unexpectedly and she was in front of their eyes before they knew it. She had looked straight through them, not because she was putting on an act - what little Ross knew of her, she wasn't in to that kind off thing - but because she hadn't recognised them.

To not be recognised by a person who had been the pretext, however unwittingly, for their long years of division was almost like a slap in the face. Ross had wanted some recognition, but to demand it would have upset Rachel and made him look foolish. He had toyed with pretending that he hadn't recognised her, but mentioning Chloe's name was a risk he didn't want to take, even if he said something derogatory about her. It could turn nasty on him so quickly. After a complicated silence, Rachel had revealed that she was in a state of disbelief that Chloe hadn't recognised them, and Ross had been able to say, thus avoiding argument, "Who cares?" But the ghosts of arguments past hung around for a bit, even though both of them made no reference to any of those issues, and the encounter had spoiled a perfect day.

She was not going to be in Bali. Nobody was.. They could relax and have some more perfect times, just as long as Ross worked out where the best placed on the beach were.

He turned his steps to the hotel and went in through the front door. As he crossed the floor, a woman passed by in the other direction, holding a hat in one hand. She gave him a quick glance that caught his eye. He stopped and so did she. At least she hadn't forgotten him, but right now he was wishing that both of them had amnesia.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. As soon as he heard himself speak the question he realised how dumb that was. She was a guest in the hotel. He hadn't thought of her for years but now that he had her in his sights, she was the last person he wanted to be sharing a hotel with. A few of the other names that had knocked at his memory on the beach were on that list of last people, but the nice thing about those names was that their owners were far far away.

"I manage the hotel," Emily said. Ross stared,

"You manage the hotel?"

"Someone has to." There was a honking of a car horn outside and Emily stepped past him. He turned to watch her go, putting on a large sunhat as she went down the steps. Emily was managing the hotel. That was even worse. If she had been a guest, there was always the possibility of her leaving the hotel before Rachel got here. Everyone had a last day of a hotel stay and today could have been hers. Hotel managers were another story.


	4. Dislocation

**Dislocation**

He had no choice, he'd have to find another hotel. He'd be happy enough to tell Rachel the reason for the move, but only after he had succeeded in doing it. It shouldn't be too hard, although with all the people around this weekend, he might have to spend more money.

He called around only to find that none of the decent hotels had vacancies for tonight or tomorrow night. Not only was it a long weekend in Australia, there were also three conferences going on, and all of the suites were booked up. He did find one hotel with a vacancy, but at one look, he couldn't bring himself to book a night there. If it had been a question of just Rachel and himself, he would have changed. Two adults could have roughed it there, and they could make it so that the surroundings were irrelevant, but a small child could not stay in a place like that. Despondently, he made his way back to the hotel. He didn't look forward to explaining the position to Rachel.

He saw Emily at dinner, passing through the dining room. If she looked at him at all, he had missed her look. In some strange way, it was like Chloe all over again. He should have made more of an impression on her than that. Considering it was because of her his holiday was about to be ruined and that he had spent all afternoon trying to find ways to avert ruination, she should not be looking as though it was all in a day's work.

And considering that they had used to be married as well. Not that they had actually lived together after marriage, or even really seen each other - they had married and she should be looking as though she had been married to him.

"Not bad eh?" said a male voice next to him. A man of about his age was looking at him, grinning. He must have thought Ross was admiring Emily. "Working up the courage to ask her out."

"No. I'm married," Ross said, for that instant wishing it was true, and that he was wearing a ring. But it made no difference, after all, he was just as bonded to Rachel either way. It was just that he had no external proof to show anyone.

"No harm in looking," said the man, but went back to his own meal because Ross was looking at him, stony faced. In the end, Ross abandoned the meal for which he had little appetite, and went up to his room.

Unsuspecting, Rachel had more on her mind than her hotel. Having been so good on the first flight, Emma had decided to play up all during the trip to Bali. There was the screaming fit for no reason. That had made the person sitting next to her request to be moved to another seat, although with the increased space she'd ended up with, that wasn't all bad. Then there was the refusal to eat the food she'd been given, the kind of food she'd happily eaten on the way to Australia. With great difficulty, Rachel took her temperature. Emma didn't seem to be sickening for anything. Then Emma wet herself, just minutes after Rachel had taken her to the toilet.

Then, on the way out, Emma had slipped her hand and managed to get ahead in the queue of people. It was almost a heart stopping moment when she realised she was not in sight. A flight attendant had managed to intercept her and she was waiting at the head of the queue for her. Rachel's thanks were profuse, but the flight attendant just wanted her off the plane, and nodded her acknowledgment hurriedly.

She was so glad this trip was nearly over. She'd be able to relax, and let Ross take charge for a little while. Of course, now they were at the airport, Emma was being a little angel again. She'd be on her best behaviour for Daddy, so it seemed.

Rachel had just collected her luggage when a uniformed official asked her to go over to a series of tables. She could see that others were having their luggage opened and inspected. She was inwardly a little amused - as if someone like her would have anything in her luggage - but it was also one further annoyance to have to put up with.

She wasn't really taking it seriously as she stood in front of the baggage and answered questions - why would she? Yes that was her bag. She had just flown in from Australia. She had packed it herself. She knew exactly what she'd see when they opened the bag.

There was a large package of clear plastic through which dark green stuff could be seen. She stared at it. It wasn't hers. It couldn't be her bag after all, and she looked up at the officer.

'There's been some mistake, this isn't my bag after all,' but a gloved hand had lifted the package, and she could see her things underneath. The solution came to her, but she suddenly felt very very cold. 'It's not my package, someone must have put have put that in my bag.' But why? she thought, panicked, as Emma began to wail. Why my bag?

"Miss Rachel Green, you are under arrest for drug trafficking."

"No, there's been some mistake." This could not be happening. As one of the officers touched her, she flinched and she found herself grabbed more roughly and handcuffed. "No!" she screamed, "I've got rights, I'm an American citizen, you can't do this to me."

"You're not above the law, Miss Green," said the officer who had done all the talking. "Even Americans have to respect our laws." He was looking at her with dislike. Why was he doing that? Why should he dislike her so? What had she ever done to him? Much later, when she'd had more time than she'd ever wanted to think it over, she still didn't know - American foreign policy? Because she was wearing make up? Because of the drugs in her bag?

What she did know, both later and at the time, was that she was totally helpless. And so was Emma, who was screaming for her, reaching out hands for her. She could not take her in her arms, and instead had to watch some strange woman pick her up.

This could not be happening.


	5. Impossible

This could not be happening.

Ross had been at the airport but hadn't seen Rachel. He had thought that she was late, and then that she had somehow missed the plane. She would surely have got a message through to him if that had happened, unless something had gone wrong. Perhaps she had left a message, but that message had not got through. Lazy hotel staff or … Emily had had a down on Rachel, whatever she though of him. What if she had maliciously prevented a message from getting through?

He began to feel agitated at the possibility that such meanness could be directed at him and his family. How could she do a thing like that? What had Rachel ever done to her? What had he ever done to her? Okay, he'd done something, but it was only a little mistake and that was so long ago and it had all been for the best hadn't it? If it was for the best from his perspective it must have been for the best from hers. She looked all right anyway.

He shook his head to try and get these disturbing thoughts out of his head. He went to the airline counter to see if he could find out if Rachel was on the next flight, which required a prolonged discussion with the green jacketed female assistant of whether or not the airline could divulge that information. Of course if they were married, he could have insisted - they probably would have been more co-operative then. But now all he had were his persuasive powers and his weren't working. He had no idea how he had managed to keep his temper in the middle of all of this. Anger management problems were a thing of the past, but they were really pushing their luck here. It was only consciousness of the new zero tolerance attitude to misbehaviour in the new age of terrorism that kept him under control.

"Rachel Green?" said a supervisor, also wearing green, who came over to see what was going on.

"And Emma Geller Green," Ross said. No way could they forget his little girl. The supervisor looked at him.

"She was on flight AX567 which landed an hour ago." And then Ross really began to worry, because there was no reason why this supervisor, who had not been looking up anyone's name on the computer, should be able to recognise Rachel's name, just like that. There was no reason why the supervisor should be giving him such a cold stare. The staff member who had been helping Ross looked at the supervisor, and in that look, Ross realised that she too recognised Rachel now that the supervisor had arrived.

"What?"

"Your girlfriend has been arrested. She was trying to carry drugs through customs."

"What!" Ross exploded, "That's impossible! Ridiculous! What the hell do you think Rachel is? A criminal? I never heard anything more stupid in my life. You guys have made a mistake." Ross jabbed a finger in the air. "I better hear some very good explanation for this."

"If you'll take a seat sir, I'll get someone to speak to you." The supervisor pointed at some seats behind him.

"It had better be good," Ross said shakily, "And then I'm going to call my embassy and there's going to be a complaint about your airline and this airport and this whole damn country."

"If you would take a seat," the supervisor said with distaste. Ross glanced at the assistant. She was looking down at her desk, avoiding interaction.

What the hell was going on? Arrested? Drugs? Were they talking about her prescription pills? Anything she was currently taking must be okay. Had there been a bribe asked that she hadn't paid? He had already encountered police asking for bribes on the grounds of what he suspected was some imaginary issue with his passport. She would not have been prepared for such a thing. Maybe she had made an issue of it and they had thought they could scare her by arresting her. Well, they'd find they'd made a mistake.

When he saw the police, who came promptly, he was surprised at the airline's helpfulness. When they had said they would get someone, he didn't think they'd go straight to the source. But as soon as they spoke to him, he realised that he was a suspect. They seemed to believe that he was the next step in whatever drug trail the drugs found were involved in and he was subjected to long questioning about his reasons for being in Indonesia, in Bali, and the name of every contact he had. There was something cold about their eyes. Every answer he gave seemed to invoke a silent scorn. With a chill, he realised that this was serious and out of his control.

"What about Emma?" Ross asked. It was the first time since the interview had been established that he had dared ask any questions, and it was only because it was apparent to him that while they regarded him with suspicion, the police weren't about to arrest him.

"She is safe with her mother at the moment, but of course, can't stay with her."

"What? Why not?"

"Miss Green will be going to Denpasar Jail."

"Hold on a minute, what about posting bond? I can get a bond posted for her and we could stay at the hotel," Ross said.

"No bonds or bails." They received a message from someone outside the room and Ross was told,

"You are free to go. We'll get your daughter and you can take her back to the hotel."

"Rachel, I must see Rachel," Rachel said.

"You'll will have to arrange that with the prison."

"Prison? Why can't I see her now?"

"It is not permitted. Wait outside." And outside he went.

Half an hour later, he received his distressed daughter, her face streaked with tears. After that, they took no interest in him.


	6. Hotel

**Return to hotel.**

He felt as though everyone was staring at him when he got back to the hotel. What must they be thinking of a man who looked as though the world had ended with a heart broken child in his arms. He was given his key without having to ask for it, something he was glad of, because he did not want to talk to or interact with anyone, and he went up to the room.

The sight of his room filled him with despair. Rachel was not in it; that was one reason. The other reason was that it had been searched, not roughly, but its disturbance was obvious. He resisted an impulse to straighten everything out, to remove their touch from his things and instead ordered up some food for Emma. He could not manage anything more yet.

He sat watching his bewildered daughter as she looked around the room. She had wriggled out of his grasp at the first opportunity, and although he would have preferred to hold her, he knew she would start to cry again if she didn't have her way. Now she was standing in the middle of the room, regarding everything with suspicion. This wasn't like her. Normally, she'd be exploring everything. He didn't know what to do about her - if anything.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Ross called listlessly. Emily came in, bearing a tray.

"I sometimes help out, if we're short staffed," she said at his speechless look. There was a side table and she laid out food there.

"Oh." He saw there was also coffee, which he hadn't asked for but now realised that he welcomed. He watched her pour it out.

"I just wanted to take the opportunity to let you know that my staff will help you in any way they can." He looked blank. "With phone calls, that sort of thing. They've got all the numbers you might need handy, you only have to ask."

"How do you know?"

"They could hardly search this room without me knowing about it." A faint look of distaste crossed her face. "The maid for this floor tidied up, but obviously things can't be exactly as you left them. I also can't guarantee that nothing's missing - I'd vouch for my staff, but not for the police." So they had turned the room over.

"Did they tell you what happened?" Ross asked.

"No, but I could hazard a guess." Ross stared at her. "It must have been something to do with the airport, and customs. That could only mean… " she glanced over at Emma, who had moved closer to Ross and was looking at her with reserve. "One or two things."

"It's ridiculous," Ross said. "They've accused her of smuggling in four kilogrammes of cannabis." He felt weak for divulging this to Emily, who was being unexpectedly helpful, when he'd anticipated the reverse, but it would probably be in the papers soon anyway. Her eyebrows flew up.

"That is ridiculous."

"You believe that's ridiculous?"

"She never struck me as the type of person who would do that kind of thing. And you never struck me was the type of person who would put up with a person who was into that kind of thing, at least," she amended, "not for very long."

"So now I've got to figure out how to get her out of there," Ross said.

"I'd call your embassy first thing. I know you've got a little girl to take care of, but I'd make that call now."

"Oh," Ross said. Why had he waited to be told? He'd been so full of plans to do that before he had been interrogated, but now on the other side of that experience, he couldn't remember a single thing.

"The switchboard will put you through." Emily, who had already turned to the door stopped. "I know that might not be as private as you like, but there isn't any phone on this island that is truly private. And there are other things you're going to need."

"What are they?" Ross asked. She looked at him steadily.

"Money is one, because you're going to need a lawyer and you're going to need to have enough money to stay for a while." And then her face softened. "Neither of you would realise exactly how long this is going to take to resolve. You should call your family and friends. You'll need every single one on your side." With that, she left the room, closing the door gently after her.

He was afraid of just how right she was.


End file.
